Attention Paid to Nature Shapes in Fresh, Spirited Lit Mag

In celebration of the Adirondacks and regions similar in spirit, Blueline literary magazine is a nature lover’s dream. But Issue 38 proves it offers far more than one-hundred-fifty-plus pages of sentimental prose. For starters, this issue is as decorated with art as it is with words, both of which range in style from hyperrealism to dreamy suggestion. As for tone, consider these phrases taken from two poems in this issue: “You have desecrated the sacred silk” (from “Growth” by Chelsea Stefani) and “Bright sun on new snow/…speak[s]” (from “Why the Impressionists Were Right” by Tracy Lewis). Summing up this issue can only be done by referring back to Blueline’s mission: Nature shapes.

One way that nature shapes this issue is the attention paid to place. Take the interview with naturalist-turned-writer, Ed Kanze, as an example. Kanze says: “I love place. I love every place I’ve every lived…ever traveled.” The same could be said about Issue 38 in general: it is grounded in a love of place. But rather than the same well-worn descriptions about the same well-worn babbling brooks, this issue is made up of fresh content and perspective. In part, I think this is due to the diversity in and sheer number of distinct contributors. In this issue, Blueline includes work from 61 poets, 7 reviewers, 5 artists, 3 fiction writers, 2 nonfiction writers, and 1 interviewer. How can a conversation with that many voices not be fresh?

More than fresh, I think the strength of Issue 38 is the spirit. Take Leath Tonino’s short fiction, “From an Article in a Small-town Newspaper” for example. The narrator imagines a group of ice-fishers noted in an article, reflecting: “surely they were…warm and comfy…with friends outdoors…you know right there you already got yourself something pretty good.” I challenge readers to read this story to the end and do anything but what the narrator did: wish you were there. Tonino’s tight prose proves that the camaraderie and comfort to be found in nature (whether in the Adirondacks or not) is universal.

Another universal in Issue 38 is the open-ended nature of nature—there is no single way to see, feel, smell, or touch it. Ed Coletti’s poem “February” is a perfect example. Consider the poem’s first line: “Moon wanes two cranes weave wind, ripple streams.” There is a myriad of ways to read this line, and all of them are smooth and meaningful.

And if you’re after meaning, it is well worth the time to read Matt Dennison’s poem “The Various.” In it, Dennison remembers being a boy and having no questions about the natural world. As proof, he offers up a laundry list of reasons—items, creatures, “dinosaur gar/from another world…./shaking hands with God at the tug of a fish.” These were his teachers, who whispered and “sleep-talked” everything [he] would ever need to know.”

I can only imagine that mixed-media artist Suzanne Langelier-Lebeda had a similar experience when she drew or painted the 13 pieces featured in Issue 38. Some of her subjects, which are summarized in title of each piece include, among others: “Exploding Berries,” “Adirondack Valley,” and “Spring Marsh.” Perhaps the most atmospheric of the bunch are a pair of drawings of riverbanks cloaked fog, with just a hint of color where moss has taken root. And yet, for a series of work so snuggly rooted in the landscape of the Adirondacks, these images could easily call to mind berries and valleys and marshes anywhere. Again, the spirit of universality echoes in Issue 38 of Blueline.

This spirit is also put to the test in the diversity of content and contributors. Considering Blueline is a magazine whose loyalty clearly lies in Upstate New York, Issue 38 includes reflections on places as far away as Ho Chi Minh City (in the poem “Dear Suki: Letter N for Nostalgia” by Lana Bella). Another poem, “Whirling,” by Changming Yuan, recounts the flight of the Chinese folkloric Peng bird. Contributors in Issue 38 have lived across the US and as far away as Italy and elsewhere; besides writers and teachers, contributors include a psychotherapist, a harp player, a retired physician, and a former paratrooper. One might think these contributors have little in common; and yet, somehow, the spirit of nature as a shaping force holds true.

Blueline publishes one issue per year, which means you have plenty of time to take in the spirit (and the talent, both emerging and established) of Issue 38. The deadline for the next issue is November 30, with decisions to be made mid-February. Every literary magazine recommends reading an issue before submitting, but nowhere is this more true than Blueline. Issue 38 includes an Editor’s Note, extended submission guidelines, and information on the theme for its next issue (water).